Fate's Assassin
by Renascielle
Summary: "My name is Lightning Farron, best assassin on Cocoon. I've been tasked with disposing of a crazed serial killer, known to all as Snow Villiers. Unfortunately, my job took a turn for the worst when I began to fall for the enemy..." Rated T - [CHAPTER 6 -NEW 04.21.14]
1. Chapter 1

_A/N for all previous readers :__ First of all, it's good to be back ! I have decided to re-upload past chapters as I felt that they needed a bit of work. I took on board the advice you had given me in the reviews -which I still appreciate greatly-, and have modified a few details (although nothing that would alter the main plot line). So I do encourage a second read-through. On another note, I have merged the previous second and third chapters because I found them a little short. _

_I hope I didn't offend anyone by making the changes. Happy reading !_

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><p><em>"Whoever loves becomes humble. Those who love have, so to speak, pawned a part of their narcissism."- Sigmund Freud<em>

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><p>As I strode down the corridors of the tall office building, I felt so powerful. People would move for me, ask me if I wanted anything to drink, admire my booming career as if I was as divine as the Fal'cie. I wouldn't have been surprised if they all started worshiping me on their hands and knees. Although the amazing feeling of supremacy was a beautiful gift on this dreary Thursday morning, I was too modest to proclaim my success to the world. In my mind, however, I could infinitely praise myself.<p>

Of course, being the top assassin in all of Cocoon was a huge accomplishment at the mere age of twenty-one, but I needn't bathe in my glory as weak assistants and pathetic understudies took note of my every action in the hope that, one day, they would throw me from my seat of power.

Assassination wasn't the path I'd chosen, in fact it was fairly ironic how I found myself working for such people. When I was seventeen, I'd decided on working for the Bodhum security regiment. It took a lot of training to take care of the citizens of this world, but I found my way eventually. Then, as I was finally getting settled in, I was recruited by one of the top assassination offices in all of Cocoon. I was skeptical at first, but the little perks won me over soon enough. The pay was far better than what I was earning before, and I would have been doing the exact same thing but from a different angle.

It wasn't a rogue, independent elimination office, however. They worked in part with the Guardian Corps division of the security services offered by the Sanctum. We handled the rebellious souls elegantly, without causing too much of a stir in the media.

The first couple of months flew by quickly. I picked up the tricks of the trade rapidly, and found myself dealing with very important jobs at an early stage. I was known for my capability to destroy a target within the first day of the mission, so for all the more pressing matters, I was the perfect person for the job.

I avoided the crowd of amateurs that surrounded me daily, asking me many questions in futility, as I was needed elsewhere. My boss had informed me early that morning that there was a very troublesome young man that I needed to sort out.

I made my way to his office, which was located on the very highest level of the building and knocked confidently at the door, not afraid to unmask my unnerving and formidable presence.

Yaag Rosch, second president of the company since it's foundation, greeted me with a daunting smile as he appeared from behind a very large glass desk. A few years prior to my arrival, he was second in command to Jihl Nabaat, lieutenant colonel of the PSICOM forces, whose main priority was to prepare for a potential attack from Pulse. But since the War of transgression, things have been relatively calm, rendering the PSICOM soldiers inexperienced, useless and embarrassing. As a good part of our targets were anti-Sanctum rebels, the job interested him greatly; for whatever concerns the Sanctum, concerns the Fal'cie. He was seldom at the offices, as he still spent a large portion of his time guiding the military and licking Miss Nabaat's boots clean.

"Ah, Lightning." He rose slowly, examining a folder, his finger still grazing the page.

I made my way over to him, before staring over the glossy slab that separated us to catch a glimpse of the papers.

"So, what's the situation ?"

I had made a solemn vow to myself to never kill a target if I deemed it wrong to do so. In consequence, the most important part of my job was getting my facts right, and learning everything I could about the person in the quickest time possible. It would have been a redoubtable challenge for most men, but it seemed to come very naturally to me. I'm still not sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

He looked at me quizzically and handed me the folder, without further conversation.

I sat opposite the desk in a very large black love seat, and crossed my legs before looking at the papers.

The first thing I saw was a very attractive young man. Although he looked slightly ragged, past the shaggy blond hair and the stubble that graced his jaw, he was undoubtedly handsome. And those eyes... They seemed to come out of the picture.

"Snow Villiers." Rosch's voice startled me. "He killed an assassin last year. Since then we've tried to get hold of him by sending out our best and brightest, but he got to them before they even had a chance. He knew they were coming for him. That's four men we've lost, so far."

He roamed the room as he spoke, his hands folded behind his back and his gaze brushing the floor.

"We don't have an address. It seems that Mister Villiers is a bit of a nomadic creature. Nevertheless, we have a few leads."

"So, from what I understand, we're dealing with a crazy, hobo, serial-killer who refuses to give up the fight." I couldn't help but smile slightly at the phrase that had just escaped my rosy lips, and silently admire the young soul's determination.

I crossed my arms whilst waiting for the reply.

"Crazy... indeed. He likes to call himself a 'Hero', remarkably. But we know he's just looking for fame and glory, and is stirring the crowds in doing so."

I stopped listening as my mind turned to another matter.

I brushed away a couple of strands of my pink hair that were irritating my face, and cocked my head to the side slightly.

"What makes you think that I can do what so many others have failed to ?"

He looked me up and down before standing straight in front of me.

"You've got something that will make this job so much easier for you, something that none of the others had. You, my darling, are a women."


	2. Chapter 2

_"Whoever loves becomes humble. Those who love have, so to speak, pawned a part of their narcissism."- Sigmund Freud_

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><p>As I got up the next day, I was greeted by a very sunny glow that crept into my bedroom without permission.<p>

On most occasions I would have been thrilled about the warm hazy sunlight that had snuck into the frightful autumn season, but warmth never comes alone.

Living in Bodhum was peaceful most of the time, but as soon as those rays hit the ocean water, you wouldn't be able to breathe properly when you set foot out of the house. Hoards of people would migrate to the city for the day and bask in the hot weather. A crowded beach wasn't the perfect setting when you were hunting someone down.

Thankfully I had information on how I could find out where my target was situated.

Lying on the beach shore, where the crowds of people grazed, was a very quaint bar. The owner apparently was in contact with my target .

I was very suspicious at first. After all, it's not everyday you hear that a serial killer is roaming around your hometown and that an accomplice is possibly working at your local. But doing what I do, I must treat every glimmer of information the same, be it important of not.

I rose from the creased sheets that covered my bed, where I alone found solace, and stumbled over to the bathroom. After completing my daily regime of showering and breakfast, I got ready to leave.

Picking up my multiple guns, and placing some refills in the pouch that rested on my beige overcoat, I hastily made my way over to the door.

Before pulling it open and unleashing a powerful light, I managed to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. On most days, I wouldn't have bothered with my hair. After all, that was the least of my problems. But taking into consideration what my boss had told me the day before, I found it best to make an effort. If seduction was indeed needed, I would have been totally unprepared.

Starring at myself avidly, I sighed as my hands tried to separate the long pink curls that lay messily on my shoulder. Wincing slightly each time I pulled a bit too hard, my fingers calmed the pile of fluff that had befriended my neck.

I crept away from the reflective glass and placed a stable hand on the door. Already, my mind was buzzing at the thought of the risk I was taking. I had hardly ever dealt with someone so close by and never in broad daylight. The thought of being caught was terrifying, but in some way, exhilarating.

I pushed the door open and, as I did, was welcomed by a terrifying sight.

Hundreds of people were reunited along the sandy beach, all bathing in the sun, catching whatever beams of light decided to lay on their bodies. Children were running along the water, splashing each other and shrieking when tiny beads of water hit their skin. The adults laying on the gold dust seemed oblivious to the madness that surrounded them.

I never did like the sun very much. It was too hot, and with my pale complexion I burnt easily. But not the light nor the visitors would distract me today.

As I strode through the crowds of people, I received some odd looks from a few mothers who were relaxing on their oversized beach-towels. Most of them were caused by the fact that I was flicking sand on to their tanned bodies. But I'm sure that at least a quarter of the cold, angry glares were provoked by my strange attire. My burgundy cape may have been a little over the top.

I could see the bar at the far end of the beach and rejoiced. Suddenly, a huge bucket of water drenched me entirely.

Gasping like an angry little girl, I turned slowly around to where the water had come from, my clothes sticking to me and my carefully placed hair dripping wet. Standing in front of me was a young boy.

His silver hair shun in the sunlight and his green eyes glowed vividly as he stared up at me, a yellow bucket in his hands. Some yellow shorts covered his pale legs as they trembled in front of my disgusted expression. He couldn't have been any older than fourteen.

He gulped loudly before meeting my glare with his emerald orbs. When he did, he dropped the bucket instantly.

"I'm sorry !" He voice seemed to break as he shrieked the words.

Before I'd gotten the chance to answer back, a fairly high pitched voice was projected from behind me.

"Hope !"

He ran away from me quickly, refusing to turn back around as he jogged towards the women who had called him over.

"Hope, huh ?" I muttered to myself as I walked closer towards the bar." That's pretty ironic."

I arrived at my destination swiftly. Thankfully, the hot weather had nearly dried me off by the time I reached the building.

Up above the entrance, the word "Lebreau's" made itself clearly visible.

I peered inside first, making sure not to run into anyone I recognized. I couldn't spot anyone over the age of thirty. Everyone was obviously outside enjoying the sun while it lasted.

A very pretty young women, roughly the same age as me was working behind the bar. My first guess was that she was Lebreau.

I made my way over to the wooden bar and pressed a firm hand on it's surface. The girl turned to me, her eyes glowing as she looked me up and down. She cocked her head to the side and smiled.

"What can I get you ?"

I stared down at the floor unwillingly.

"You wouldn't happen to know someone called Snow, would you ?" I shot my eyes back up to meet hers.

The young barmaid looked at me quizzically for an instant, before breaking her soft gaze away from my persistent glare, and dropping her pupils back down to the empty glass she was holding. I could see her complexion change from a deep caramel colour, to a more pinkish crimson.

"Uh..." She stopped in her tracks and breathed deeply for a moment, probably dissecting my sudden question. " No, sorry. May I ask why ?"

One thing people misjudge about assassins, is their quick whit and fascinating ability to lie. I've pretended to be so many people over the years that I often end up losing who I am . If I stray too far away from the task and begin to feel comfortable stepping in the shoes of my alias, things often go wrong.

The cover story I was going for was one that I'd been saving for a case just like this. It was, to be perfectly honest, a stroke of genius, that I had come up with in the early hours of the morning, when my mind pondered without cause or reason.

I stared at the floor, for every small detail counts when you're acting, and began willing the tears to build up in my eyes.

When my vision started to become blurry, I knew that it was the right time to start the show.

Flicking my head up quickly, I reached over the ebony bar and took her hands in mine. The teardrops fell faster as I stared intently into her eyes, trying to make her crumble at my fragile state.

"I need to see him, just once more. I... I can't breathe, I can't sleep. After that one night we spent together, he's all I can think about..."

Yes, this was my cover story. It was so simple, yet highly effective. Any decent woman would succumb to me tears and help me find closure, and from the comforting look in her eyes, she would do exactly as I had planned.

"Oh, hun'... We've all been there." She bit her lip softly as her eyes dropped to the dirty floor once more. "Look, if you really want to see him then head upstairs. Trust me, it'll all be okay."

I smiled slightly at her and nodded.

This was easier than I had expected. Who knew that people could be played so effortlessly ?

I understood that taking advantage of someone who seemed so gullible was wrong, but it would all be for the greater good in the end. After all, did my targets once stop to consider the feelings of others ? Of course not.

My steps were carefully paced as I made my way up the creaking stairs. Every stride brought me closer to him, to my eventual victory. My heart raced as I finally arrived on the landing.

The place I now stood in was one of no emotion or life. It was an empty barren room, filled with boxes and an old bookshelf. You could see the dust circulating around the place as the sunny light slipped in through the unpolished and cracked windows. It was so different from the cheerful atmosphere that the room under my feet held. It was as if I'd stepped into an alternate universe, or fell all the way through Cocoon and came out of the other side.

As I took a step closer to the chaos, I suddenly heard rumbling coming from a joint room in the back.

A large man, very tall and very muscular appeared. I wasn't sure if it was his colossal size or the abnormality of his gaze that made me jump back a few inches. Suddenly he pointed at me.

"You're not supposed to be up here !"

I scoffed at his pathetic words as I narrowed the slim distance between us .

"Listen, I'm looking for a man named Snow and I am not leaving here without him."

He snorted sarcastically before shaking his head.

"He always did get the prettiest girls. There is no way on Pulse I'm telling some floozy were he is." He smirked. "I guess you'll just have to stay here with me."

I didn't know if that was a threat, or a puerile attempt at seduction.

The distinct smell of cheap cologne and steroids suddenly erased any distance that was separating us. He towered over me, his abnormal hair making him a few inches taller. His intense glare made me drop my eyes. I felt intimidated. Before, I'd almost wanted to laugh at his outlandish attire and even more bizarre stance, but now, as his burning eyes searched for mine, I felt like a pathetic small child. Of course, this wasn't going to bother me for long.

Moving my hand slightly up my vest, I reached in my pocket and grabbed my pistol. He instantly backed away.

The tiny weapon had more than one use. Not only could it make holes where there were none previously, it was able to scare even the craziest of men.

Moving towards him once more, I started to speak quietly not wanting to draw attention to the situation from downstairs. "I'll say it again, slowly, so that your small brain can comprehend. Snow Villiers, I need him, and if I don't get him, which trust me, I will, I'll kill you instead. That is, if you survive this. Got it ?"

He nodded once, and then raised his hands in surrender.

"In there." He flicked his head towards the small room at the back of the room.

Still pointing the gun in his direction, I made my way to the adjoining suite.

In there, along with dust, were very old files. Holding my weapon in one hand, I picked up one of the folders, only to be greeted by blank pages. Not one of them contained anything. Suddenly, my weapon went flying from my grip.

Turning around, he was there, holding himself like a beast as he had previously.

The pistol lay on the floor, the bullets leaking out of it.

What amazed me the most was the fact that he had crept up on me without making any noise.

Suddenly he started running towards me like a boulder. Not caring for a fight at a time like this, I decided to take an easier approach. A couple of seconds before he reached me, a took out my hand and hit him forcefully in the neck, causing him to fall instantly to the ground.

"Well that was a waste of time." I mumbled to myself as I jogged down the stairs, leaving the oaf where he lay.

The rain hit hard against the thin roof as a thunder storm started to form. As it did, hoards of people started running inside the bar, every last one of them completely drenched.

As I escaped the building, something grabbed my arm. Lebreau. She was standing next to me, a distinct glimmer of mischief in her deep brown eyes.

"That's right, run away. Don't come back, that is, unless you want every one to know who you really are."

Releasing my arm, she stumbled back into the dry and warm place. Turns out I'm not the only good actress in Bodhum.

The sky began to mock me as the rain fell harder and the pale blue, that brought happiness to many people this morning, began to fade. As the thunder bellowed and flashes of bright light started encircling the beach, I decided to sit down on the soaking sand. What was the point in doing anything more today. My spirits were low and my mind was tired.

I raised my head, letting the rain hit my pale skin. It was so relaxing to let the tiny crystals massage my eyelids.

Just as I was sinking into my own complicated mind, a loud, cocky, strong and stable voice called out from beside me.

"'Bit wet out to be sunbathing, don't ya' think ?"


	3. Chapter 3

_"Whoever loves becomes humble. Those who love have, so to speak, pawned a part of their narcissism."- Sigmund Freud_

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><p>I looked up, blinking profusely as the rain started falling harder.<p>

"Oh..." I let out a sigh. "Hello Fang."

Fang had been a friend of mine for some time now. We had met at a bar a couple of years back. To be honest, I really didn't think much of her at first. She was simply my ride home after a night of self-indulgence. Little did I know at the time that she would turn out to be one of my greatest allies, both during my difficult personal moments and out on the hunting grounds. After I'd unprofessionally divulged information about my career choice, she began to request my aid in helping her find a job at my agency. With my guidance and blessing, she made a name for herself in next to no time. Ever since then, I've been unable to get rid of her.

"What'cha doing out here at a time like this ?"

She kneeled beside me on the sand and began looking up at the looming clouds overhead.

"I'm on a job."

Suffice to say, she understood. She chuckled amicably before stretching her arms out towards the sea.

"I guess it's not going to well, huh." She observed, mocking me.

I tilted my head slightly and stared at her.

"And, what makes you say that ?"

To be honest, I was starting to get angry. My day had not gone to plan and I really didn't take well to any sort of criticism, be it light-hearted or not. Any other person would have known by my stern expression to tread lightly. Of course, Fang wasn't, much to my dismay, just any other person.

"Exhibit 'A'," She taped softly on my forehead. "Frown lines. I've told you about them before. You've got such a pretty face, darlin', don't go messing it up." She cleared her throat before continuing. "Exhibit 'B', your sitting down. Quietly, I might add. The only time you ever to that is when you're tired, or pissed, or both."

"That means nothing." I neither had the energy nor the tolerance to say more than that.

"Maybe. But your favorite gun is also missing." She smirked, before tugging on my pocket playfully.

She kept looking at me, surely hoping to get a response of some sort. Once she backed down, mumbling to herself, I threw Villiers' photo at her.

"Oh, I see. You've got yourself some boy troubles ! Well look at you, soldier ! "

I honestly couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not. I hoped for her sake she was.

"That's the job." I said, before closing my eyes. " For the life of me, I can't find him anywhere. I'm starting to think he died or something. My one and only lead just feel through and I-"

"Hang on a sec' ! Is that..."

Before Fang continued, she burst out laughing.

"What on Pulse is wrong with you ?!" I shouted, trying to get her to stop.

"Well." She snorted." He sure is lively for a dead guy, let me put it that way."

My mouth hung open. I started frantically searching around for him, my eyes crossing over every inch of the beach. I stood up, hoping to get a better view. The only people left on the sand were some old drunk guys and a few rowdy teenagers. Fang then hit me on the leg.

"Sit back down ya' pleb. He 's not here."

I did as she asked. I suddenly felt at lot more willing to talk.

According to what she said next, she'd met my target a couple of nights before I was handed my assignment. He'd tried to sweet talk her into, and I quote, 'taking a ride' with him, whatever that meant . Unfortunately for him, Fang doesn't exactly turn that way. They parted, feeling awkward. Only now does she realize how lucky of an escape she had.

"So that's it. I haven't seen him since." She clarified, her lips still slightly curved in amusement.

"And, aside from the clean insight into what you get up to on a Friday night, how do you think that helps me ?" Needless to say, it wasn't the information I'd been hoping for.

"Well, if you're going to be like that I might just not tell you." She smiled and turned her head away.

I was close to punching her.

"Pl-please, Fang. I'll do anything." I looked at the ground blushing slightly. It wasn't in my nature to plead... or to bargain.

"Aw, that's sweet. But you're not my type. Too dominant." She stuck out her tongue. "I was going to say, before you opened your big hole, that I'd overheard some young girls talking about him, saying he hunts down his pray at the same place every Friday, down by the bay. It's cheap, I know, but I'm guessing very effective. He uses a fake name so they won't be able to track him down. He told me he was called 'Rain'. He must be one hell'a creative guy to come up with that !" She rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"Thank you so much, Fang !" I rested a hand on her shoulder. "Well it's getting dark. I'll see you on Monday, yeah ?" I stood up enthusiastically and smiled at her once more before heading off.

"Hey Light ?" I heard from behind me. "What day is it my dear ?"

"It's Fri- Shit..."

She winked at me. "I guess it's time to go put your little black dress on..."


	4. Chapter 4

_"Whoever loves becomes humble. Those who love have, so to speak, pawned a part of their narcissism."- Sigmund Freud_

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><p>"There ! You look great, I don't know what you were so worried about. If you get any hotter, it'll be me you'll be dealing with tonight." Fang said, sprawled out on my bed, winking at me.<p>

After our conversation, Fang had decided to accompany me home, to help me find something suitable to wear. I didn't decline, seeing as how it had been a while since I'd been out, and had no idea how to comport myself in such a situation.

In the dark depths of my wardrobe, she'd managed to find a very old black dress. I didn't actually think she was serious before. That was until she practically started undressing me herself.

I stared at my attire in the mirror. To be honest, I did look pretty good, even though I would never admit to Fang, not wanting to add to her already blooming ego and narcissistic manners. Classy, yet feminine ; it had a collar and a short billowy skirt. Fang had persuaded me to tie by hair up into a messy ponytail, saying it made me look like less of a bitch. I sincerely hoped it would suffice and please my bandanna sporting target.

"Well... wish me luck !" I smiled back at my friend as I left the room.

"Good luck... Now I don't want you staying out too late young lady ! Call me if you run into any trouble." She chuckled amicably before throwing me my cell phone.

"I don't look for trouble. I am trouble."

I gave myself one last glance, persuaded that this night could only end badly.

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><p>I arrived swiftly at the pier. The music was loud, the people were sweaty. Everyone was jumping and grinding to the beat of the songs. Seeing as how I didn't have the most experience, I decided to follow the crowd and made my way through the sea of bouncing chests and cheap cologne. I flashed a light, sarcastic smile to the couple of rowdy guys who began to dance with me, and headed faster towards the bar on the other side. The flickering lights began to make me nauseous. It didn't take me long to realize that I was way out of my depth.<p>

I sat down on one of the barstools available, enabling me to think over my hazy strategy. I had my pick of seating, as it was only me and I few middle-aged women straying from the action. They eyed me up and down before scoffing into their cocktails. Needless to say, I felt old. I ordered a beverage, not wanting to seem out of place, and rested my face on my hand, sighing.

A little under a minute of my sulking, someone had placed their hand on my shoulder.

"What are you doing here all alone ?" His voice was husky.

My heart raced as I attempted to turn around, hoping the fool I was chasing had just made my job a whole lot easier.

He hadn't.

Some sweaty oaf was staring me up and down, almost salivating while staring down at my chest, orbs twinkling, palm tightening on my shoulder.

"I'm waiting for my boyfriend." I said coldly before returning to my drink. He walked away. I knew I wouldn't be seeing him again tonight.

"You don't have a boyfriend, do you ?" A voice shot out from my right.

I pivoted my head and saw a man staring at me, glassy eyed. I remained silent, figuring it futile to answer.

"Trust me, I won't bite. Oh wait, you think I'm hitting on you..." He laughed quietly to himself. "Don't worry, this isn't my scene either."

I analyzed him through the corner of my eye. Mid-forties. Laugh-lines. Judging by his uniform which he had carelessly left on, in the Air forces.

I glanced at him momentarily.

"So what's your deal ?" My tone expressed more angst than I'd planned.

He chuckled once again, and showed me a picture in his wallet. It was a photo of a young boy, probably six or so.

"Dahj... My son. My wife just left me and took him with her. So now I'm drowning my sorrows." He uttered, raising his glass.

"I see." I returned to my drink. Personal problems weren't any interest to me, and I didn't care for comforting others. The conversation had already grew tiring.

"What about you ?" He started the conversation up again, much to my dismay.

I sighed. "I'm... looking for someone."

"Aren't we all ? It's either someone or something..." He looked away. "Promise me though, you won't spend your hole life just looking. Because, take it from someone who knows, it can be stolen from you in a flash." He snapped his fingers in front of my eyes. "It's not all sugar and rainbows but... try to be happy, smile. It won't kill you."

"Okay." I mouthed indifferently and rolled my eyes.

"You're not very sociable are you ?"

I began to get agitated, tempted to escape the interrogation I was now submitted to. I decided to answer briefly, buying myself some time before I'd need to face more disappointment on my journey.

"I don't see a reason to be, especially not to strangers." I glared at him.

"Ouch. As I said, I don't bite... But I'm scared you will." He widened his chocolate eyes ironically.

"Yeah, I'd watch out." I broke eye contact and began sipping my drink slowly.

"Threats ? Ah, I see. You want to be left alone. I can take a hint." He stretched his arms out and yawned. " I won't stay where I'm not wanted".

He mumbled something about being drunk before rising in a clumsy manner from his barstool.

"It was nice to me you." He said, from over my shoulder.

"And pointless to meet you." I whispered back.

He laughed once more before jotting off. I swear I heard a faint chirp from his hair as he did.

I was growing more and more frustrated by my lack of success, and the few drinks I had weren't contributing to my pending triumph. I waited a while, sobering up slightly and decided once more to venture out into the madness.

From afar, I noticed a second set of hallucinating flashes from the other side of the beach. I would need to cross the sand in order to arrive at my destination point, but thought it would help raise moral if I stretched my legs.

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><p>I stepped on the arid ashes. It took me a while before realizing that the lights were further away than I had thought. I had never contemplated how vast Bodhum beach truly was. Seeing how far I had come, I decided to rove further. It wasn't in my nature to quit, and I certainly loathed the thought of coming home to a mocking Fang and a sea of arrogant remarks.<p>

The night grew darker as I wandered on the beach. My sole company, the ostinato of soft waves as they fled the ocean. Without the natural light from the sky, I would have regretfully been lost. I concentrated on the goal ahead, all the while concerned by my seemingly never ending trek.

Suddenly I spotted a silhouette in the distance, resting on the sand. Adrenaline rushed through me, heightening my senses, making me brutally aware of my surroundings. The chill in the air became more distinct. The sound of the waves, like avalanches.

Frolicking on the beach alone at night was more than a strange habit. I kept my guard up, treading lightly, hesitantly as I approached the somber figure.

I could feel the breeze inciting me forth. I attempted to keep calm but failed as my heart pounded faster, cheeks flushed. I thanked the night for the mask it set on my face. The back of my neck tingled and my hands became humid. My mind nefast as it pondered without reason.

I was now only a couple of heartbeats away from it. I heard it's voice as he began humming a sweet song. He was a male, that I knew.

I took one more step, before understanding the situation I found myself in.

The beating in my chest froze as I heard him utter a single delicate word under the moonlight.

"Serah ?"


	5. Chapter 5

_"Whoever loves becomes humble. Those who love have, so to speak, pawned a part of their narcissism."- Sigmund Freud_

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><p>I felt all the blood rush out of my head as the young man looked up at me. I observed him momentarily before he stood up, a few grains of sand falling off his long coat as he did. I backed away. He was a lot taller than I had first pictured and I could only feel small in comparison. He didn't move, instead, he continued to study me. I could only faintly trace the lines of his face in the darkness. Feeling threatened, I instinctively placed a hand on my gun.<p>

"Is it really you, Serah ?" He questioned, reaching out slightly.

"I... What ?" I mumbled incoherently.

The man took a step closer to me. I tightened my grip on my weapon. He took another and reached out for my face. I felt nauseated as he took one final step in my direction, placing a few gloved fingers on my cheek. And as he did, it became heart-wrenchingly clear what was happening. This was it. How was this it ? I closed my eyes.

I had found him, my target, my killer: the Hero. He was here, standing in front of me, flesh, bones and all the sick thoughts that made him who he was. It seemed inconceivable. I refused to believe it. Things could not have gone this way, it all seemed too easy, too tangible, too real.

_Not now. This is not happening ! Please, Maker._ I repeated to myself as I sensed his gaze burn my skin. I continued to plead. Feeling his warm breath on my face, I blinked nervously. I inhaled deeply and looked directly into his eyes, which were now only a few inches away from my own.

He dropped his hand and jumped back. "Oh shit ! Oh, geez, I am so sorry. I thought well, I thought you were someone else..."

I could only continue to stare at the man as he rambled on, spouting out apologies from every direction. I wasn't listening in the slightest.I began to analyze him, looking only at his hands, seldom making eye contact. They were large, wide and frankly a weapon in their own respect. I could still feel the heat of his palm on my face, and imagined how easily he could have broken my jaw had I reacted hastily. If he had indeed become violent, I would've only had one option, but it was not one I was willing to concede to just yet. I could have kicked him the chest, at the risk of breaking my foot. I was now staring avidly at his abdominal area, imagining what was hiding behind his blue shirt. I started to compare him to a human shield. I began to wonder how much damage a man of his size could endure before begging for mercy, but stopped as the thought frightened me. Would I have to run if things got too violent ? I thought about how fast he would be able to run, my eyes heading downward toward his thick thighs. If there was such a thing as a one-man army, he was the defintion of it.

"... and then my friend said that I should... Are you okay ?"

I flicked my head up. "I'm fine." I answered, coldly.

"Are you sure ? Before you were, like, white, and now you're kinda' red." He asked. It almost seemed like he was showing genuine concern.

"No, it's nothing. I'm just a little light-headed." I shook my head, lips pursed.

"Oh... Oh ! So you're drunk ?" He grinned at me.

"What ? No, I'm not." I crossed my arms, still avoiding eye contact.

"Nah', don't worry. Truth is..." He approached me and leaned into my ear. "...I'm a little drunk too." He laughed and pulled away.

I was stunned by his sweet scent as he grazed my lobe. My heart fluttered and I could feel myself blush intensely. I restrained myself from punching the egotistical monster.

There was an awkward silence as I searched for something to say. Thankfully, he seemed to notice.

He put a hand behind his head and smiled. "What are you doing out here so late ?" He asked, I presumed, out of courtesy.

" Oh... I..uh..." Lost for words, I sighed and sat down on the sand.

"Are you okay ? If you want, I can walk you back to Bodhum." I could hear him smiling as he mouthed his words, but I couldn't give in. I had a job to do.

"That's okay. I think I'm just going to stay here a while." I lied.

"Sure, sure. Well, I'll see you around... maybe." He knelt down on one knee and threw me a wink. "Get back safe, 'mkay ?" I acquiesced before looking out onto the horizon.

I had to think fast, or I would lose any chance of seeing him again; luck doesn't strike twice.

People at my company, be it understudies or estranged coworkers, had often praised my ability to lie and think on my feet. But here, with him, it felt different. I was lost and confused. I was so dazed because of everything that had just happened. Under normal circumstances, things didn't pan out in such a manner. In all honesty, my day to day assassinations became tedious. The same targets -most of the time anti-Sanctum democrats who believed theology had no place in the ruling of a people-, the same places, the same hours, the same techniques. It all changed after my first few months at the assassination office. It used to be exiting, every new day brought with it a new adventure. I guess, I morphed along side it, I chose to fit the mold. I became compliant. The highlight of my day, was putting other people down. I no longer felt the need to fight for my place because it was mine and no matter how many children would try to steal it, I rest assured that they would all die off eventually. And I would remain queen, in my empire, in the life that I had grown accustomed to. If a challenge was what I needed to wake up, the mission at hand was definitely what the doctor ordered.

But this wasn't the time to began a self-help session of psychoanalysis, no, I had a job to do. Although apprehensive, there was no way I could let him slip through my fingers. I could hear the sand crackling as he walked away. The darkness became all too threatening. The waves too loud. The breeze, brisk.

"Who's Serah ?" I asked, a little more enthusiastically than I should have, secretly pleased with myself.

I turned my head to look at him. Mr. Villiers had stopped in his tracks and was now staring down at his feet. Had I known less about him, I would have thought he was about to cry. Instead, I was frighteningly worried he was about to decapitate me with his Behemoth hands. He turned around slowly, his head cocked ever so slightly to the side.

He stood there for a while, tracing circles in the sand with his pupils. I, on the other hand, was anticipating my next move should things turn sour. He then proceeded to do something quite unexpected: he began to laugh quietly. I could only look on wide-eyed at his reaction to my question. He slowly moved closer to me, pacing himself, his head in his hands.

"Where to start ?" He said, before placing himself beside me on the sand. He lay his arms over his knees and shook his head as he continued to chuckle at himself.

"What's so funny ?" I replied, interested and afraid. I decided to hide my feelings with a sheepish grin.

"Well, aside from the fact that I basically sexually harassed you on the beach a little under fifteen minutes a-"

"Seventeen minutes ago." I corrected bitterly, stalling.

"Oh, sorry mam'. Well, aside from that, I don't normally... uh... lay out my whole life story for someone I only met, what was it, seventeen minutes ago." He smiled, looking out across the water.

"No offense, but you basically assaulted me back there and I think I deserve to know a little more about my..."

"Attacker ?"

I arched my eyebrows and scoffed. "Tch, exactly."

"Then that would make you my victim ?" He looked at me mischievously. Little did he realize the irony in his statement.

"Another one to add to the list, I'm sure." I played along. I was almost enjoying our banter.

"Ouch. You think I have a list ?" He corrected his posture. "This isn't a daily occurrence for me, you know." He winked again.

"You can't understand how special that makes me feel."

"Anyway, I prefer to be called a Hero if we're really calling each other names."

"Okay Hero. You still haven't answered my question though."

"Oh... right." His expression changed abruptly. He furrowed his brows and seemed to concentrate hard on what he was about to say. "She was my fiance."

"Was...?"

"Yeah." He smiled softly and looked up at me. "I met her was I was eighteen. She was a little younger than me, but we attended the same school. I spent too much of my time sleeping and being a passive little dick to notice her, though. It was only after I dropped out that I really saw her for the first time. I was going through some hard times and decided to visit the orphanage I grew up in."

"You were an orphan ?" I couldn't help but feel a little empathetic towards him.

"Yeah, but... yeah." The man started to play with some sand between his feet, trailing his index finger through the grains. I decided it would be better to change the subject. I needed answers, not an angry, self-loathing criminal to deal with.

"So Serah..." I started the conversation up again.

"That was the first time we spoke. And it all just went from there."

"I'm guessing, love at first sight." I interjected.

He looked up at me. "Damn right." His eyes softened. "Tell me if it gets too depressing, okay ?"

I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "It's fine, I can handle it, really. Anyway, continue." I hoped my enthusiasm didn't come across fake.

He ignored my comment and continued his narration. "We started dating a little ways down the line and things were going smoothly. She helped me reconnect with some old friends of mine, from the orphanage. Together we created a little civilian protection agency. We would patrol Bodhum at night and help out when people were in trouble. We were still pretty much kids, but we started building a reputation for ourselves. People even started looking up to us." He stopped and balled up his fist. "But the government didn't like that."

My heart sank. If the Sanctum was involved, there was definitely not a happy ending to his story.

"The government ? Such as...?"

"Well, mainly the heads of the Guardian Corps. You know the G.C, right ? They-"

"Yeah... I know of them..." My gaze drifted to the ocean. Now was not the time for regrets. I composed myself and shot him a smile. I needed to come across affable, not deranged.

He seemed a bit concerned, but didn't pay me any more attention than he needed to. He let out a sigh, fists still tight. "They didn't like that civilians were helping around town. They said it made them look bad and incapable of doing their jobs and that people would think that they needed some prepubescent teens to step in... Their words, not mine." He wiped his hands over his face. "I knew what they were really pissed about. They didn't want their civilians to have too much hope. Having some orphans protect the town showed everyone that humans are capable of taking care of themselves. But that would render the Sanctum useless. It's not like I was looking for anarchy. I just wanted to help, you know ? I wasn't going to comply easily." He exhaled deeply. "They hassled us for a year or two, but I never thought their threats would come to anything."

"Was it... Serah ?"

"Yeah..." He buried his face in his hands and let out a disgruntled moan. I placed a hand on his back, hesitantly.

"What did they do to her ?" I didn't know if my question was inappropriate or not. In any case, the mention of the Guardian Corps had piqued my interest significantly.

"She just kinda'... disappeared. Everyone thought she'd run away somewhere. But I knew. It was them, those bastards, they took her from me."

"Did they... ?" My voice trailed off softy as I backtracked.

He seemed to have read my thoughts anyway. "I have no idea. That, or they have her locked up somewhere." He lay down on the sand. Hands behind his head. "I prefer not to think about it."

"So, why did you think I was Serah ?" I turned my head to look at him. He ignored me and continued to stare up at the night.

"You look a lot like her." He smiled nostalgically. "Plus, this is where I proposed."

"So you thought that if she were to come back... She'd wait for you here ?"

"Yep." He answered before closing his eyes.

It amazed me how one could be so at ease around a person whom they had met merely a fraction of time ago. I, however, was in a state of brooding disquietude. He was either incredibly trusting or as good of an actor as I was. I needed to inquire further if I had any chance of uncovering his true nature.

I took a moment to observe my surroundings. It was dauntingly peaceful. The faint light emanating from Phoenix was enough to set the water alight. Faint little peaks glistened as the waves danced in sync. My hair moved in time with the cool breeze of the shore. Where, at first, I was alarmed by the lack of people, I now admired the openness of the area. It looked untouched. I could have effortlessly let myself be taken away by the hush of the beach. I resisted. All I needed was a little break to arrange my thoughts.

It was evident that the man who was now sleepily resting by my side, was the same person that I had been assigned to terminate. That, at least, was the one aspect I was sure of. It was equally indisputable that, if I wished it, I could kill him here and now, with one simple pull of a trigger. But I couldn't help but remember my rule, the one sacred limitation I had assigned to myself when I took the job : I would never kill a target if I deemed it wrong to do so. Villiers had suffered. And for what reason ? Because he wanted to help others ? He wasn't leading a rebellion. He wasn't creating an uproar. He wasn't a terrorist. He was a human being who had had everything taken away from him. It was only natural that he abhor those who stole from him. However, everyone has been a victim of the state, in one way or another. Does that excuse reckless behavior ?

A heat began to rise to my head, my stomach churned. I was over-thinking everything, passively waiting for a miracle. My reservations were taking over, and I wasn't going to let them consume me without a fight. If this was the life that I had chosen, then there were things I was just going to have to do. I needed to stick to my goals.

I reached for my thigh, where my pistol had been nestled since the beginning of the evening. I clenched my jaw . With bated breath, I unlocked the trigger guard. I held the grip with two hands, attempting to steady them as I unlocked my elbows. My head span and my vision became blurry. I turned slowly, holding the gun down low as not to alarm him too much. And, as time went by painfully slow, my thoughts racing, my breath caught, I raised the gun steadily. I looked up at the sky. The glaze over my orbs started to clear as I pulled the trigger.

And there, lying in front of me, arms behind his head, was the Hero, still alive and half-asleep.

I fired once more, a deadly resolve in my spirit. I heard and small click : nothing.

The man looked so incredibly innocent. A faint smile painted on his lips, a black bandanna slipping off of his blond locks, his chest raising every now and then to allow a delicate breath escape his thin lips. I recalled the first time I saw his face, in my boss' office. I thought of the photo of a serial killer that I had held between my digits. I could still see his threatening gaze in my mind, that look that seemed to jump out from the paper.

I composed myself and checked the magazine. It was empty. My round had disappeared.

"What the... Did he..." I whispered to myself carelessly, staring at the weapon's empty body.

I heard a rustling. Hastily, I snuck the gun back into the pouch on my thigh. I stared on wide-eyed as he removed his bandanna and ran a hand through his untamed hair.

"Geez... it's getting late, huh ?" He sat up, turning his head around, inspecting himself and his surroundings.

I nodded, still having trouble breathing, and got up from where I was sitting.

"Oh..." He hissed a little as he stood. "Oh man, you must think a lot of me." He chuckled, in a gregarious manner.

A gave him a quick, unnatural smile.

"Boy, I feel old." He yawned and stretched out his arms. "Let me walk you back home. And before you say anything, I'm not taking no for an answer." He took my hand. Before he could press his lips upon it, I snatched it away, earning myself a rather curious glare.

"You can't. I don't live around here. I came from the station." I lied once more, taken aback by his flirtatious ways.

He cocked his head in incredulity. "Okay... At least let me drive you there. I can't face the thought of a pretty girl out in the dark all on her own."

"I can manage, but I guess a ride would be nice." I couldn't refuse a second time.

"Then it's settled." He gestured for me to follow him as he strolled off.

I cursed under my breath as we walked away, perplex and paying close attention to my target as we continued to converse.

* * *

><p>As Snow drove down the sleepy streets of Bodhum, my heart raced.<p>

He had offered to take me on his motorcycle, however we both knew from my earlier reservations that I was in no way prepared to sit on that death-trap. I thought I'd offended him, but he shook it off, putting my rejection down to nerves. I played along. He then remembered his car, that he had left at Lebreau's for safe keeping. Thankfully, I didn't recognize anyone there from my previous visit. A new girl was tending to the drunks and getting a little over-friendly with Villiers when he asked her for his keys. I stood in the background, anxiously tapping my foot against the floor, avoiding eye contact with anyone with whom I crossed paths.

The place definitely seemed more inviting than the first time I had visited it. People were laughing and drinking. Everyone seemed pretty happy and relaxed. There must have been something in the air that night. Although I'm certain that the cheap cocktails had something to do with the jocular atmosphere.

My phone started to vibrate. I picked it up quickly. It was Fang.

_"Hey Light. How's the hunt going ? Ya' found him yet ?"_

"Fang, I don't have time for this ! I'll call you later."

_"Awe, c'mon Light, don't be such a tight a-"_

I shut my cell when I saw Villiers heading my way, keys in hand. He dangled them in front of me before heading out of the backdoor. I followed suit.

He swiftly pulled a large sheet off of what I could only assume was his car. Suddenly, I found myself in front of one of the most beautiful machines I had ever laid my eyes upon : silver exterior, pristine alloy rims, black-tinted windows, curvaceous body. This was clearly not the kind of vehicle that just anyone could afford to drive around in, that's for sure. My target clearly picked up on my admiration as he ran a hand across the frame.

"A beauty, ain't she ?" He knocked on the car's roof and opened the bonnet, peering inside in excitement. "Three thousand pounds of pure power."

"I bet that's what you say to all the girls." I quipped sarcastically.

He snickered without raising his head. "You know a little about cars ?"

"I know how to drive one, if that's what you're asking." I could hear him laugh and mutter something to himself from under the hood.

"Rear wheel drive, a mainly aluminum composition, a pretty impressive 201 miles per hour max' speed and..." He held up his hand, rushed around to the side I was standing by and opened the door in one fluid motion.

"Leather seats." I added with a smile. "Nice."

I climbed in. He shut the door for me and walked around before entering the car himself.

"You're not into the whole flying car thing then ?" I questioned.

He held the wheel and smiled, letting out a soft moan. "I like to feel the ground beneath my feet." For some reason, that last comment surprised me.

I watched him intently as he entered the keys into the ignition. Pacing himself he messed around with a few buttons on the dashboard

"Are you ever planning on driving this thing, or are we going to sit here all night ?"

He laughed sarcastically. "Sarcasm your strong point, is it ?"

I ignored his comment, which stirred me a tad, and shot him a dirty look.

"I'm getting to it. You've got to give a car time to warm up. She'll get there in her own time."

"Your telling me." I grinned at him.

We made our way down the street leading to the peer. It felt nice to be away from the crowds. Bodhum can be a busy place during the day. It was only in the brief, early hours of the morning that the city calmed down and became truly beautiful. A few lamp-posts lit up the roads. Houses, each one identical to the last, dotted the sides of the streets. Nature had it's place in the urban paradise as well. Little red and yellow flowers grew on vines, a number of light green plants were scattered around in little wooden boxes and a few Magnolia trees provided shelter on the especially sunny days beside the shore.

I envied those who lived in Bodhum's suburbia. As it was closer to work, I had chosen to live in a small apartment overlooking the town's commercial area, on the far end of Bodhum's main beach. At that point, my social life became non-existent. I don't think I'd ever spoken to my neighbors. It wasn't the friendliest of places. But that was how I preferred to live. Solitude had been my sole roommate for a while. Fang and I had spoken about living together, but company was something I could only take in small doses and I had no intention of alienating one of my only friends with my foul moods.

I came back to reality as we halted in front of a stop sign. Villiers was humming along to a song on the radio, tapping his hand on the wheel.

"You're awful quiet." He looked at me, his orbs enigmatic.

"Sorry, I was just... thinking." I refocused my eyes and we started moving again.

"You know, I never got your name." He threw me a quick smile, eyebrows arched.

At that point, I was far too tired to come up with anything creative.

"Claire." I spat out without thinking, resting my head against the back of the seat.

"I'm Snow, for what it's worth."

"Pleased to meet you, Snow." I answered drowsily, a hint of sarcasm in my response. I closed my eyes and crossed my arms.

I could hear him place his arm behind my headrest and exhale. I felt strangely safe in his vehicle, despite him being lightly intoxicated. I'd searched the car during the few seconds he was outside, and found nothing but a few cigarettes in the glove box. There were also a couple of maps thrown onto the backseat; no sign of my missing cartridges. Overall, nothing to spark my interest. If he was hiding a weapon, he was hiding it well.

"I'm sorry if I bummed you out earlier."

I looked over to him and sat up. "You don't need to apologize."

"Still, I didn't mean to go on and on about.. well, you know." He replied, hands tightening around the wheel.

"It's understandable. If anything, I found it admirable." Although I had a hard time accepting it, I meant what I said.

"What do you mean ?"

"To be able to open up like that to a stranger, Snow, it's... refreshing."

I could see him smile. "Thanks. I am pretty fresh."

"You ruined it." I scoffed and returned back to my original position.

* * *

><p>It took us another quarter of an hour to finally reach the station. The time flew by and conversation seemed to flow naturally.<p>

He got out first and opened my door for me. I took note of how polite he was.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been to Bodhum's main train station for leisure. The big, circular entrance loomed over us in the darkness. On the rare occasions that I would pass by, it would always be busy, full of tourists and vacationers. The sound of an announcement or two would boom out of the speakers and taxis would be lined outside, blocking the roads and hogging the sidewalks. But in the middle of the night, the building had suffered from a severe case of desertification.

As I entered, I counted the number of heads inside: there were around twenty people. Most of them looked like drunks, or people who had gotten lost on their way back from the city. Either way, the place I was now stood in, normally clean and airy, smelt like kerosene and looked like death.

"Ew..." I looked at Snow who was casually lingering behind me.

"I know." I said, before waltzing off towards one of the blue screens.

I had no idea where I was going. I decided to grab the cheapest ticket I could and then send Snow back home. That way, I would avoid a three hour train ride and still cover my tracks. I placed a finger on the buttons as they appeared, barely paying any attention to my choices. I scanned my card over the screen when it requested payment, took my ticket from the dispenser next to it, and turned around to find myself solitary and deserted in an unfamiliar place.

I looked around frantically for Snow, checking behind every bleak corner and inspecting every bench to make sure he wasn't waiting somewhere. I grew uneasy. It was dark, I was cold and surrounded by people who I assumed would have no qualms about mugging me. I investigated the restrooms, the food stands, the gift shops and the tourism and help center that were all conveniently barren. I began to make my way back to the entrance.

"Has he actually ditched me ?" I mumbled a little too loudly as I stormed off.

A hand grabbed my shoulder. "Claire !"

My heart leaped from my chest. "You almost gave me a heart attack ! What are you playing at !" I took a while to compose myself between breaths, not noticing that my ticket had fallen out of my hand.

He reached down to pick it up.

"Where did you even go ?" I inquired.

He rose, ticket between his index and middle finger. "Huh ? Oh !" He pointed towards a homeless man siting on the steps leading up to the station. "An old friend."

I shook my head faintly. "What do you m-"

-Train to Nautilus departing from platform 4 in five minutes-

The computer's voice rang out from the speakers.

"That's yours right ?" He pointed out cheerfully, changing the subject and holding up my ticket, obviously pleased with himself.

"I guess..." I took the thin piece of paper from him and thanked him. "I guess I'll be going then. You should too, it'll be morning soon." I insisted, uncertain of what else to say at this point.

"Don't be silly ! I'll wait with you." He placed a hand on my back and led me towards the platforms.

"What ?!" I dug my heels in the ground. "Honestly I'll be fine from here." I stared up at him with a cold glare, my voice sounding sharp.

"Claire, I took you this far. It's only a five minute wait."

I could not seem to shake this guy. His stubbornness grated me.

"F-Fine."

We arrived on the platform swiftly. I sat down on one of the metal benches available and crossed my arms, attempting to come up with a plan. I would of shot myself, had I had a choice. I discerned Villiers from the corner of my eye, studying a map on the wall.

He came and sat next to me, his leg brushing against mine. I flinched slightly at his touch.

"So you're a Nautilus girl then, huh ?"

"Apparently." I retorted, indifferently, still angered that he had scuppered my plan.

A startling gust of wind came from the tunnel. I shivered and wrapped my arms tighter around my body. I turned my head when I heard the sound of cloth.

"Take this." Snow said, placing his coat over my shoulders.

"What, no ! You can't just give people your clothes, Hero." I declared, releasing my arms and using them to take the garment off. He stopped me by grabbing my hands in his.

"You can borrow it." He smiled and swept his fingers over mine.

He was dangerously close to me. I looked into his eyes, giving up entirely as I felt his digits continue to caress my skin.

"Sane people don't do that kind of thing." I murmured, weakly.

"Well then I must be crazy." I noticed the beam on his face as he let go of me and stood up. "Five, four, three, two,..."

Before he could finish his countdown, the train hurtled into the station. He offered me his hand and I welcomed it, too tired and drained to fight back. Noticing my compliance, he took hold of my waist gently, finger by finger, until our chests met. He began to circle me, taking small steps around my body, his palms never leaving my skin. I was slowly becoming his prey.

"Stunning." He uttered softly, now facing me. "My coat suits you." His hands continued to graze my waist. His gaze drifted up my figure to meet my eyes.

Finally, he slipped a hand under my newly acquired attire and ushered me onto the train.

"I'll call you tomorrow, Beautiful."

Before I had time to process his words he threw my cell through the closing doorway.

"How did you even...?" I was mostly talking to myself at this point as the opening shut abruptly.

I saw him salute me through the glass as my transportation began to move.

My little heart broke as I became savagely aware of my solitude. I opened my cell and dialed Fang's number. Waiting for her to answer, my anxiety grew with abundance. She ultimately picked up.

_"Geez, Light. What time is it ?"_ Her voice was groggy. I must have woken her.

"Fang. I'm in trouble."

_"Are ya' hurt ? What did he do to you ?"_

"No, I'm fine. Fang, I'm on a train to Nautilus." I sat down, exasperated, and sighed.

_"What... why ?_" The connection was getting worse.

"It's a long story. Look, I don't have much time." I glanced over at a map of the train lines. "The train stops at The Vault Station in half an hour. It looks like it's near the Euride Gorge. I know it's a lot to ask but..."

_"Got it. I'll be there."_


	6. Chapter 6

_"Whoever loves becomes humble. Those who love have, so to speak, pawned a part of their narcissism."- Sigmund Freud_

* * *

><p>The next day, I woke to the sound of soft rain. Autumn had evidently returned. I lay in the same position for a while, my arm draped lazily over my eyes, before removing it and sitting up. I stared out of the window, tired and light-headed. A few rays of light had managed to seep through the clouds, but overall it was a very grizzly day in Bodhum. I could see the city's main beach from afar, behind a few rows of small houses. Where only a few hours prior people had gathered from every corner of the town, it now lay deserted. The excitement from last night seemed like a world away.<p>

Last night, I reminded myself, as I remembered the events from the night before. Eager to ignore the happenings that had continued to play on my mind during my slumber, I positioned myself back down and shut my eyes. I remained in a state of tranquility for another minute or two, before being brutally brought back to the real world by a rather dynamic Fang.

"Time to get up, Sunshine." She said, removing the blanket she had previously placed over me. "Coffee ?"

I shook my head lethargically, rubbing my eyes. The strong smell of caffeine stung my nostrils. I sat up, resting my spine against the back of the loveseat I had slept on.

Fang's apartment felt like home. I had spent more than a few nights there. It was a fairly quaint abode; the kitchen and living room formed a large open space. However the two neighboring bedrooms were small in size. The walls were painted in vibrant tones that failed to highlight the room's main feature : a beautiful bay window over-looking the suburban area of Bodhum. Frankly, it was almost the exact opposite of my own home, which is probably why it felt so welcoming.

I looked around the room for a few minutes. It occurred to me that Fang was in serious need of an interior decorator. The furniture didn't match and the colors clashed. I found the place too cluttered. Fang enjoyed collecting odd knickknacks and would display them with pride. With each step you could learn something new about her. Each trinket represented a place she'd visited or a friend she had made. On the shelf above her stove was where she kept her most prized possessions. It surprised me how I had made my way onto it. There, resting beside a colorful picture frame given to her by her most recent girlfriend, was a small ornate box I had bought Fang on her twenty-first birthday. I insisted she put it to some use. Instead, it lay dormant in her kitchen, where Fang was now standing.

"What time is it ?" I mumbled.

"Just past ten." She answered, playing around with some colorful mugs. "You called me pretty late last night, so I thought I'd leave you to get a bit more shut-eye."

I let out a light groan. I felt like hell. My body, which I usually took care in keeping finely tuned, had obviously suffered from the lack of sleep. My head pounded as Fang approached me, cup in hand. With the other she threw me my cell.

"The bloody thing hasn't stopped beeping all morning."

"Oh... Right." I managed to whisper, looking down at the gadget in my lap. I picked it up and opened it.

"Three texts and two missed calls." I heard from beside me. "I guess he's never heard of the three day rule." She scoffed into her beverage.

I didn't necessarily enjoy Fang snooping around my affairs, but decided to let it slide that one time. I glanced at the notifications briefly, to confirm what she had said. Much to my dismay, they were all, indeed, from my target. I couldn't face reading them. I shut my phone violently.

"So..." Fang started, clearly not picking up my irritation. "You want to tell me what exactly happened yesterday ?"

After she'd picked me up from Euride Gorge, we spent most of the car ride in silence. I was far too exasperated to talk. She appeared to understand, and we left it at that. She offered to let me sleep at her apartment and I accepted.

I sighed vehemently before commencing my narration.

"I found him just sitting in the sand on his own. He mistook me for some other girl and got a little too handsy." I began to feel nauseated, in the same manner I had previously.

"So ya' punched him ! Slimy bastard."

"No, I... didn't do anything. After that we just spoke for awhile until he offered to take me home."

"And that's how you ended up on a train to Nautilus. I see..." I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic, but I didn't care.

"I could have just shot him when we met and saved myself _a lot_ of hassle." I shook my head once more, regretfully.

"Well why didn't you ?"

"My ammo vanished."

She stared at me for a few seconds, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips. I glared back at her, anticipating a wave of mockeries.

"Oh, _come on,_ L-" She began, before I interrupted her.

"Don't." I warned, raising a hand.

"What ?"

"You know damned well what."

She took a few sips of her drink, stifling a laugh. "You're really not a morning person are you ?"

I shot her a glare. A stern expression was purposely painted across my face. I was in no mood to deal with her sarcasm. I was already frustrated at my doomed attempt at completing my job. A scolding was not what I needed. And especially not from Fang.

It seemed that my body language hadn't conveyed the intended message, as Fang decided to reply in a more than familiar tone.

"Quit with the death glares Farron. You know better than I do that that's bull'." She stared up into the air and rolled her eyes. " I think someone got a little too carried away and forgot her mission."

"Who do you think your talking to ? Without me you woul-"

"Yeah. I wouldn't know anything _about_ assassination. Etro, get off your damned high horse already."

With one final scowl. I stood up, reaching for my keys that I had thrown on her coffee-table the night before, and stormed off.

"Don't think you'll be on top forever." I heard her hiss sharply.

I slammed the door behind me.

I made my way outside, where a "delightful" shower of rain was waiting for me. A received a few looks from passers by, mainly due to my attire. I was sporting, and quite thankfully, the trench-coat I had been gifted the night before. It may not have been my favored style of clothing, but it did a good job of keeping the falling water off of my limp body.

I considered returning to my apartment, but decided instead to stretch my legs for a while. After all, a weekend was to be enjoyed and not spent alone, in one's bedroom.

Consequently, I was now wandering around Bodhum in the rain, with no foreseeable plans for my weekend. I drifted past the crowd, in no hurry to make my way, well, anywhere.

The city was busy, as it was every morning. People were hurrying out of the drizzle into charming little coffee shops. Others were huddled under umbrellas, chatting and laughing as they pranced beside me. Some pitiable bastards were holding briefcases, no doubt on their way to work. I on the other hand, looked rather out of place. I was probably the only poor soul without any plans. But it had become a habit of mine.

Solitude had become my biggest friend since I had started my job. Quite believably, killing people for money doesn't leave one with much time for a social life. And when an opportunity did arise to make a new acquaintance, something would always get in the way. Mainly, my complete disregard for other people's well-being. Worrying about myself was hard enough, I hardly needed another entity to agonize over. At least, that was what I thought.

It seemed difficult to meet new people. More than once, a few brave colleagues had asked me to go drinking with them. However, I preferred to keep my distance from other "employees". It seemed ludicrous to even consider organizing an outing with assassins. It would be both dangerous and slightly sinister. I didn't even want to think about possible topics of conversation. And so, with an nonexistent desire to get involved with people from work, where else was I supposed to meet other beings ?

I continued to reflect as I roamed the city aimlessly.

It wasn't until my cell phone -which had been nestled in my hand since the start of my trek- began to ring, that I returned to reality. I prayed to every living Falcie before looking down at the number. My trembling hands holding the animated object, I sighed in relief. It wasn't Villiers. But the number was nevertheless one I recognized. I answered, dazed, holding the phone up to my ear. Yaag Rosch's voice rang out through the speakers.

_"Farron, it's your boss. Get down here now."_

Without further explanation, he hung up.

I did have plans after all.

* * *

><p>I decided to head straight over to G.C headquarters, where my boss was awaiting my arrival.<p>

I was filled with a large sense of uneasiness as I activated the callbox at the building's entrance. Even secretaries had to work today, it seemed, as the regular sultry tone of the offices' clerical assistant let me in.

I ambled through the empty halls of the building, passing a few offices and waiting rooms. I then waited for an elevator. I didn't have to fight for one, as I usually did. Instead, I enjoyed a brief moment of peace. The interns' and associates' absence was very welcome today. I felt a strange feeling of ambivalence as I listened to the overly-played elevator music, watching the buttons light up I headed higher and higher up. Of course, being the head of a top assassination office had it's perks. Rosch had been assigned the largest, highest and most beautiful of all offices. But it was a pain in the ass to get to.

I arrived in front of his secretary swiftly. She was typing fervently on keyboard, barely noticing my presence until I let out a soft cough, drawing her attention. She looked up, slightly confused. Her expression caught me off guard; this was hardly our first encounter. Her hands drifted away from her computer.

"Miss. Farron." She noted, politely, before picking up a small phone next to her. She mumbled into it incoherently.

I took note of her actions and strolled towards Rosch's office, resting a hand on the glass, ready to open it. I heard talking from inside. A small voice called out from behind me.

"Excuse me, Miss Farron !" Her tone was slightly more affirmative this time. "You need to head down to the armory."

I turned my head, taking my hand off of the door. "The armory ?" I inquired.

"Yes." She answered, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Head's orders."

"_Head's orders."_ I muttered to myself, retracing my steps as I made my way back to the elevator. "He couldn't have told me that sooner ?"

And so, with modest aggravation, I headed back down.

It didn't take me long to find the armory. It was situated on the lowest level of the base, underground and hidden from any peering eyes. If the guys at PSICOM knew what we were hiding down here, they would probably shut us down. Even though the two units both worked from the Sanctum, they each had their own jobs and each held there own morals.

I jotted down the stairs leading to the large, subterranean bunker. The entire structure was made out of tin and metal. Every footstep could be heard from miles away. The green walls were stained black after a fire broke out a few years prior. Hardly any weapons made it out unscathed, and even less were usable. They had to employ a brand new team to put the pieces back together.

I arrived in front of the vault door. Instinctively glancing to my right, I approached the print scanner and entered the code, before pressing my thumb against the device. It wasn't my first time down here.

Often enough, employees here would need specific "tools" to aid them with their work. They had everything here, from grenades to daggers, from pistols to flame-throwers. Most assassins preferred the more traditional weapons; however there were a few that enjoyed playing with their targets before delivering the final blow. The Heads chose to ignore all of that. As long as the job got done, as long as someone's blood was spilled, as long as someone got paid, they didn't care.

In one clean maneuver the door opened. Walking inside, I couldn't help but notice a strange burning smell. It hadn't been present the last time I'd visited.

A deep voice rumbled from afar, demanding to know who it was. I answered casually, stating only my last name with vigor. He called me over.

I walked past the shelves of guns, then blades. I inspected each object scrumptiously in awe and fear. I even touched a few of them. The cold steel burned my fingers.

I followed the voice as it spoke out to me, asking me what I wanted. It wasn't until I saw a somber figure emerge from the darkness that I stopped my prodding.

"Stop touching my shit, girl !" He commanded, batting my hand away.

"It's good to see you too, Barret." I joked, placing a hand on my hip.

Barret Walace was quite remarkably one of the strongest men I knew. He had been working down in the armory for around two years. Implausibly, he was once one of the most wanted beings at our offices. He used to lead a small resistance movement, and, unfortunately, attracted too much unwanted attention. He was caught soon enough, but the Heads decided to let him live, as long as he put his knowledge to good use. He accepted, in fear of losing his daughter. I couldn't help but respect him for that.

"Nice coat." He added, slapping me on the back a little too forcefully.

"Right." I replied, rubbing my spine.

He began to laugh. He stopped all of sudden and turned around, running back off into the blackness.

"I've got something for you," He shouted from afar. "a little gift from your boss."

He soon came bounding back, a brown, paper box in hand.

Reaching out for it, I began to grow anxious, wondering if it was perhaps a trap. I opened it prudently.

"It's a gunblade ! I made it this morning." He declared, pleased with himself.

I picked the weapon up, handling it with care. Barret took note of my apprehension and took a few steps back, offering to teach me how to use it. I refused. Instead, I slashed into the air brutally. The weight was manageable. Applying a small amount of pressure onto one of the two triggers, it suddenly changed form.

"I see. Two-in-one." I maundered. "It's a little dangerous, don't you think ?"

"Nah, it's just takes some getting used to. Boss thought you'd love it."

"Boss ?" I asked, perplexed.

"Yeah. He called me in early this morning to make it. I had to leave Marlene all on-"

I cut him off. "Rosch ? Why ?"

He paid no attention to my disrespect. "I think it's a reward."

My bewilderment grew with each answer. I got the feeling that Barret only knew as much as I did.

"I need to go." I stated, heading for the exit.

"Wait ! You forgot the case !"

I snatched the leather accessory from his hands and sprinted to the stairs.

I arrived back at the elevator in next to no time. This time however, I had to wait a few minutes. Tapping my foot anxiously on the ground, I crossed my arms over my chest. My heart stopped when the doors opened. Inside, holding a small notebook, was Fang. She glared at me for a second and then walked past me.

"What are you doing here ?" I asked, in a frosty tone.

Her voice faded as she walked further away. " Your not the only one with a job, Lightning."

Before I knew it, she was gone. Her cold presence here only added to my bemusement. I ignored it. There were far more pressing matters to be attended to.

With a complete indifference towards my boss' doltish secretary I burst into his office.

I saw him standing behind his desk, as was his habit, and walked towards him, gunblade in hand.

"What is this ?" I barked, pointing the weapon in his direction.

He looked up once, smiled, and then returned to his folder.

"A gift." He confirmed, a few fingers on his lips.

"For what ?" I lowered my newly acquired weapon.

He sighed and slumped into his large office chair. He then removed his ear piece and threw it onto the desk.

"For doing such a great job on Villiers' case." He explained.

I felt like a small disillusioned child, who was unable of understanding anything.

"What ?"

"In all honesty, I find it a little bit cruel to wear his coat as a trophy... But to each his own."

I couldn't find the words to reply. But I needn't search much longer, as Yaag picked up on my astonishment.

"A few of my men followed you last night. They saw you and our Hero get into a car. After that, they lost you."

"I...I don't know what to say."

He shut his folder and walked around to face me. "Spare me the details." He said, still grinning. "I have but one question for you : what did you do with the body ?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN : It's been a long time since I've updated (cliche, right ?). I started writing this chapter in January, but never got around to finishing it. Plus, I also got a really weird comment last time and it bothered me a lot *hum*... **

**I'm scared the plot will get too complicated, so warn me if it does. However, if things seem odd, they are for a reason. I promise. And as I've said on my profile, I ALWAYS tie up my loose ends. **

**Anyway, let me know what you think about the story ! Favorites and Reviews are appreciated. :)**


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